Am I?
by Majestrix Windrider
Summary: Jean does a little reflecting. Companion piece to A Change of Pace


I twirled my red hair and sighed. Ororo and Logan, together. It took me a while to get used to the idea. Not wanting to be unreasonable, I sort of became used to Ororo being alone. I wanted to introduce her to some friends, but none never seemed right enough, or her type. She never seemed unhappy, so I never got around to it.

Yeah, me, the telepath, pretending to be so blind as to think one of the most private people I have ever known would broadcast her discontent. The thought just soothed my nerves, and my conscience. I saw them one day. The day that the mansion was empty, save me. Scott and Charles had taken the kids on a two day excursion into New York City, to see a play and other museums. I couldn't go regretfully, I was getting over a cold, and Logan and Ororo wanted time alone. I really wish I had gone.

No one had ever seen the two together, romantically that is. They were always business when in public, but that sense of familiarity was hard to miss, in the scant smile, the way he stood possessively close to her, the way she hastened to his side in battle. It was there, but nothing of the loving sort that made your realize that these two people are seriously involved. Not that I'm surprised. I mean, they are both very covert and private people. Just a bit odd when I put them against the outline of Scott and I.

I was going to relax in the study, read a much neglected book and enjoy my freedom for the while I had it. I had a book underneath my arm, my hot cup of tea in my hand, my other on the knob when I heard it. I was startled at first. Laughter. Ororo's laugh. Coming out of what should be an empty stairwell. Surprising because the mansion is so large, only three people and some staff in it, what were the odds that we'd be in the same part so close together?

The doctor in me, the woman in me, wanted to know why she was laughing. I relinquished my hold on the door and put my book and tea down. Walking down the hall, I stopped beside a loud smelling plant and looked through the latticed banister of the large oak stairs. That is when I saw them.

Ororo was against the wall, hemmed in on both sides by Logan. He had his hand on her hip, the closeness enviable. She laughed as he kissed her, such contentedness and joy in that bell like sound. Logan started down her neck and she hit him on the shoulder playfully. He growled a little and she kissed him briefly, and it had a calming effect on him, the intimacy I was witness to beautiful in its simplicity. He buried himself in her long hair, Ororo sighing and relaxing against him. 

He was never this controlled, this easy around me. Even when he was chasing me, when the hunt was new and bright. It was always fast paced, hurried, fumbling lust as he tried to capture me. That was love I saw in his embrace, the way he held her, stroked her hair and kissed her.

So was that what I was to him?! Just someone to chase in the time it took for someone better to come along? Apparently it was, and I was jealous. By no means did my desire for Logan lessen my total love for Scott. It's just that I was never so immediately aroused by him than when Logan brushed against me. It was pure, animal attraction, one that appealed to my body so totally, that my mind and heart took a backseat to the roar of desire.

Scott, my attraction to him was born of intellectual interest, then deepening curiosity, and the clincher was the fact that he had so many admirable traits. I could do no better, and I still think that. Logan isn't better, just different. My love for Scott came before I actually yearned for his body, and it is more lasting that whatever I could have had with Logan. But that's isn't the point. I never had the chance. I never saw this side of him before. I didn't know it existed. Yeah…I'm supposed to be a telepath.

Having men flock to me fueled my smiles, gave me confidence. I always knew Ororo was more beautiful than myself on a good day, she just didn't use it. Well, not the way I used it. I'll admit, being beautiful opens doors. It got me Scott. You can't look at a person and think, oh, they have nice morals. Only telepaths have that ability. He told me that one of the reasons why he was interested in me was because he loved my voice. The voice that soothed his nerves and calmed him when he had no way to vent. I loved him for that. I still do. One of the nicest compliments I've ever received.

Men are more comfortable with a beautiful woman. Someone they can charm, they can try their game on. I'm flamboyant. I laugh at their jokes, I smile, I humor at times. But I know it isn't real. Ororo doesn't do that. And she could! Her smile makes guys take off their wedding ring, her walk could be registered as a lethal weapon. Wish I could walk like that. Tried it once and nearly broke my hip.

A burst of passion hit me, almost made me physically react. Almost. I snapped out of my thoughts. Ororo was no longer laughing, but serious as she smiled softly as Logan kissed down her collar. She sighed and wrapped her long legs around his waist, and he carried her up the stairs. Most likely to her room. I wait until they reach the floor before moving, glad that I chose to stand by the plant. Its smell masked my own, and no matter what my thoughts, I didn't want to interrupt them. With all that we've had to do in the last month, I'm surprised they've got any time to themselves.

I walk to my forgotten objects, picking them up but my body is on autopilot as I open the door and walk in. The large, vaulted room soothing me slightly as I plop down in an overstuffed chair. I realize I no longer desired my tea, which as become slightly cold. How long was I watching them? I realize I don't want to read anymore either. So I just sit there, watching my cup spin on the air as I use my powers for another miniscule entertainment.

I thrive on competition. I need it actually. To find where I am among other people. I feel the need to be the best, and for everyone else to know I'm the best. It's a shortcoming I know, but it's something that made me the way I am. I deal with it and acknowledge it. 

I guess it wasn't intentional to compare myself to Ororo. I usually am not that petty. We've been friends for many years, since we've been here at the institute together. She was so quiet and dignified, it intrigued me, and it intrigued Scott, someone who Professor Xavier had already saved from the grips of an orphanage.

She was calm and graceful, quiet and serene, most things I was not. So I learned to relax, to project the feeling of collectiveness. To move with a purpose, to look and be someone that people needed, or thought they needed, to know. And it worked with Scott. It wasn't a deception. It was me, I just learned it from Ororo. Scott became interested in me instead of Ororo and I decided that I had some traits that had worth as well. She helped me gain self confidence.

I guess the first thing I noticed was that I couldn't wear clothes like Ororo. Even Scott looked twice at her when we first tried on our uniforms. I had to close my mouth as she swept past in her cape, looking like some leather goddess. I was jealous. I'll admit it. I, in no way, looked badly, just not as good as she did. And that was important to me. To look good.

Her hair always held a glow. Such an interesting color, the color of clouds and mist. Mine just a red. A fire. People make fun of the color, coming onto me with lines like I bet you're a firecracker in bed, and others too stupid to attempt to remember. They always said mine shone, but shine is different from glow, much more superficial. 

While I'm picking apart our differences, and I'm alone and the Professor isn't here, I'll go all out. I laugh slightly, but it helps me when I clear my chest, and I think I have about seven years of this to let go.

Her hips. Why couldn't I have been born with a pair like that. I know that guys like curves, something to hold onto. I'm not a stick figure, but I don't really compare. She has a true hourglass figure, something I really envy. I like my chest, but sometimes I wonder if people would treat me different if I had hers. She wears shirts that show off every flaw and curve, leaving not much to the imagination, but with tasteful dignity. From what I've seen, she has no imperfections.

She smiles and it's all natural. I had years of orthodontia work when I was in my teens, my parents wanting the perfect child and willing to pay for it. I had braces, but I was taught not to show your imperfections, so they were invisible. I worry about mine still, especially one in the back that wants to curve around. I tried to turn it with my telekinesis, but it hurt like hell, so I stopped.

My lips are a bit thinner than I want them, I'll come right out with that fact. I don't muse my lipstick in anyway because I think the lips are an important part of a woman's allure. So I wear lipstick as red as my hair, perfectly and evenly applied. Ororo doesn't wear lipstick. She doesn't need too. Perfectly put together, without looking over coifed and high maintenance. 

I take a while to get ready in the morning. I know for a fact she can jump out of bed at four a.m. and look beautiful. We shared a room for two weeks before her room was finished. 

I sighed. I could see why Logan picked her over me. But hey, I still have Scott, and that's a hell of a lot to fall back on.

*

A couple of hours later I found myself by the lake, walking along the paved path. Thinking about how I felt and what I was thinking, the beautiful water calming whatever ill thoughts I had. I turned as I heard my name. I smiled, it was Ororo.

"Hey." I said as she caught up to me. 

"Hi. Lovely day for a walk isn't it?" She smiles and the wind blows her perfect hair and I sigh inwardly.

"Yes it is. So what's up?" She shrugged gracefully and we started walking.

"Nothing really. We haven't really talked in a while, with our busy schedules and all." 

"That's true." We walked in silence through, an awkward feeling coming over us. "Are you happy?" I turn to her quickly. She smiled and motioned to a bench.

"I am." She said softly, smiling.

"Were you unhappy before?" I crossed my legs self consciously, and watched her.

"Somewhat. I was alone. I'm not anymore. I found I couldn't be a solitary creature."

"For a while I thought you could." She looked slightly surprised.

"Are you mad that it's Logan?" My heart started hammering in my chest. Why did she have to ask that?

"Not really…"

"Just disappointed." She said, always full of compassion and understanding I couldn't take it any longer.

"Damn it 'Ro! Why can't you for once do something where I am justified in feeling how I feel?" I stood, angry without reason.

"Because I don't know what you're talking about." She stood as well, crossing her arms.

"If I landed Logan, I'd be smug as hell!" I threw up my hands as the wind picked up slightly.

"Why should I be smug? You've got someone, I've got someone. Why can't I be happy, and just that?" She asked angrily.

"I don't know! Because I wanted him!" There, I had finally said that aloud, to her face. She looked shocked, then her face became grim.

"So that's what this is about. I can't be happy, but you can?"

"I didn't say-"

"That goes without saying!" She stamped her foot and lightning flashed. Dark clouds rolled in quickly, and I looked up as a large, fat droplet flew into my eye. 

"I'm sorry." The wind's roar dulled considerably. Ororo's eyes went white as she brought the weather and her mood back under the tight control she constantly fought for.

"What?"

"I said I'm sorry. I just…do you love him?" I asked, not sure if I wanted the answer.

"Yes. Very much so."

"Then I wish you all the best." We both started to cry and hugged, the rift that had been forming for weeks finally closing up.

*

I watch them at times, interacting, enjoying each other. I smile, and the green eyed monster rears its ugly head. Although I convince myself I am perfectly happy with Scott, I still yearn for Logan at times. But I'm not jealous. Am I? 


End file.
